


Introduction to House Calls

by elegantstupidity



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 03, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 16:39:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18286172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantstupidity/pseuds/elegantstupidity
Summary: If Jeff had to deal with the ignominy of coming down with the flu, he wanted to at least recuperate in peace and private. Annie, of course, just couldn't respect that.





	Introduction to House Calls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cookiegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiegirl/gifts).



Jeff didn't know what part of this—as opposed to his life in general, which he'd had to come to terms with, however reluctantly—was most unfair: that he'd allowed some Greendale contagion—and there was no way it was just the flu; it'd be just like Greendale to put itself on the map by spawning the next big superbug—to infect him or that he now had to stay home having finally perfected an experimental blow dryer technique. On the one hand, he felt like absolute shit, but on the other, he was depriving the general public of what might be the perfect hairstyle.

God, sit next to Garrett just once and just look at what happens.

Of course, it wasn't as if Jeff had had the energy to make it to the shower—all night and most of this morning, he’d been kept awake by the head cold from hell; when he wasn’t coughing, he couldn’t breathe from his nose, and the whole time, he was running some kind of low-grade fever that made his bones ache and his brain swim—since getting knocked on his ass, so it wasn't as if he had freshly blow-dried hair for anyone to admire. He'd probably have to go with the first. 

On the third hand—and that made sense in the fever-addled reaches of his brain—it was definitely  _most_ unfair that he'd finally managed to fall asleep only for someone to show up and start banging on his door.

It was deeply, deeply unfair that whoever was knocking on Jeff’s door had timed their arrival for just when he’d finally, after hours of futile tossing and turning and finally migrating out to the couch, managed to catch some sleep. Twenty-two whole minutes according to the unfamiliar rerun of Full House playing muted on TV. Well, that and the bleary clock on his Blackberry.

From all the way across the room, which may as well have been all the way across the Rockies for as much as Jeff wanted to make that trip, he glared at the door, hoping that whoever was on the other side could feel the heat of his annoyance. Or maybe that was just the fever...

Even if it wasn't, though, there was clearly enough annoyance to go around.

“Jeff!” came a far too familiar huff of disapproving impatience. He could practically see the accompanying bounce of frustration, just shy of stomping her foot like a little girl. “Open up! I know you’re in there!”

Well, that explained why the knocking hadn't stopped after five minutes with no answer. When Annie Edison set her mind to something, there was no getting her to give it up.

Even if that meant driving Jeff to the edge of insanity.

As he finally levered himself up off the couch and made his way to the door, a hint of uncertainty entered Annie’s voice.

“I mean— You better be in there!” she warned, valiantly covering up the waver in her voice with what she probably thought was her best threatening tone. She'd probably even arrived at that conclusion after hours of practice and maybe even some workshopping with Troy and Abed. Needless to say, it didn’t exactly make Jeff quake in his boots; the shivering was just the fever. “We had to help the dean organize his costume closet today, and if you somehow found out what he was planning and played hooky anyway, I’m going to—”

“What?” Jeff demanded, yanking open the door. He propped his arm up on the frame because it made him look cool and intimidating, not because the short shuffle from couch to door had left him winded. Annie blinked up at him, her mouth still open from her unfinished attempt at intimidation. “I would love to hear what you think you can do to me.”

Annie’s mouth hovered open in shock for a second longer, her eyes going wide and a little hazy at his sudden, looming appearance. Reflexively, her hand tightened on the strap of her bag, almost big enough to rival Shirley's. She drew in a quick, sharp breath, and Jeff’s attention didn’t immediately drop from her face, but only because years of experience had inoculated him. Well, almost.

“Umm…” she managed before shaking herself and fixing him with a hard stare. Jeff’s gaze snapped back to hers. “You couldn’t handle it.”

Jeff rolled his eyes, which didn’t make the room spin any more than it already was, so at least there was that. “Fine, but can you save it for when I’m not about to keel over? It’ll probably stick better.”

Well aware that turning his back on her was as good as an invitation inside, he shuffled back to the couch and collapsed onto the cushions. His brain rattled around in his skull on impact, but at least he wasn’t in imminent danger of hitting the floor with only Annie around to clean up the mess. He’d heard about her little chloroform escapade at his old firm; there was no telling how she’d handle him.

Anyway, if Annie ever did handle him, he wanted it to be when he was actually up to the task of reciprocating...

Oh, boy. That was no good. Apparently, he was using too much energy to fight off germs and viruses to also fight off the kinds of thoughts that so often made him feel like a dirty old man.

“Fine. Abed wants you to know that if you’re Ferris-ing, he has dibs on Vice Principal Rooney,” she informed him crisply, stepping inside and shutting the door firmly behind her, which didn't make him sweat any more than he already was. Though, if Annie wanted to play nurse— Nope. Don't go there. “Actually, you should probably watch out in case he tries to break in to check on you.”

“You’ll have to be the one to break his nose, then,” he replied, too exhausted to combat Abed’s delusions, even by proxy. “I’m pretty sure my high kick’s not up to his standards right now.”

“Jeff!” 

Her voice was so much closer. Hadn't she just been at the door? How did she get over here so fast? He peered up at her, and she was frowning down at him in disapproval, which wasn't really the look he'd gone for when— _if_ —he'd ever imagined this kind of scenario, but— 

“Annie,” he returned, though he had to pause halfway through to cough.

She rolled her eyes and sank to perch on the edge of his coffee table, setting her bag down at her feet with a heavy _thump_. Had she brought supplies to take care of him? Soup or crackers or something? He didn't usually indulge in carbs, but for Annie...

“Aren’t you laying this on a little thick? With the coughing and the entire box of Kleenex on the ground?” she asked, toeing the pile with a wrinkle of her nose. “What did you do, empty the whole thing here when you heard me knocking?”

“What? No, I’m sick,” Jeff protested, proving his point, he thought; if he weren’t sick, he’d come up with a much better argument. One that would make her soften and look at him with her big, brown Disney princess eyes and tut over him with sympathy, not suspicion. “And I didn’t ask you to come over and check on me.”

“Well, what did you expect when the dean told us you weren’t coming to Greendale because of ‘a cold?’”

Even though Annie didn’t stoop to miming air quotes, the way she leaned on those last two words was more than enough to convey her skepticism.

“I expected,” he rasped, “to be left alone to recover with something like dignity. Or did I sign that away with my last tuition check?”

Rather than reply, she dug into her bag and pulled out an oral thermometer stamped with PROPERTY OF GREENDALE STUDENT HEALTH SERVICES.

"Did you steal—"

Before Jeff could even finish his question, Annie made her move, jabbing the tip of the thermometer into his mouth and deftly tapping at the device's display to start the reading. 

"Ow!" he squawked, trying to spit out the sharp probe, though Annie's hand didn't budge, leaving the soft underside of his tongue to take the unwanted poking. He glared at her, finally disgruntled enough to abandon any kind, indulgent thoughts or fantasies. This was Annie in need of being knocked down a peg or two, and Jeff was more than happy to do it. "Listen, Nurse Ratched," he managed around the unwelcome intrusion, "if you want to work in a hospital, you really need to work on your bedside manner.

Annie sniffed. "I don't need a bedside manner because you're not sick."

The monitor beeped and she removed the thermometer with a smug grin, which fell as soon as she looked at the readout. 

"102º," she said, frowning in confusion. Only for a second, though, because the next thing he knew, Jeff was being glared at with abject suspicion. "What did you do? Gargle a glass of hot water?"

He was prevented from answering her by a fit of coughing that threatened to send up both his lungs and anything attached to them. His eyes watered and he struggled for air until the tightness around his chest eased, and all Jeff could do was lie there and suck in as much oxygen as he could take. 

Still glaring, though more uncertain than before, Annie laid her hand against his forehead. If it were anyone else, Jeff would brace himself for a joke, but even though Annie had a killer instinct, she usually reserved it for worthier opponents than flu-ridden members of her study group. And so what if her hand didn’t exactly cover the entire surface of his forehead? She had unusually delicate fingers. Nice and cool, too.

She finally frowned in concern, flipping her hand so her palm was flush against his heated, clammy skin. It took all of his self-restraint not to lean into her touch. “You really are sick, aren’t you?”

“What tipped you off?” he snarked half-heartedly.

“Forgive me for not trusting you ever since you weaseled out of helping me move.” Still, Annie had the grace to look a little guilty.

“I was more than punished for that,” Jeff pointed out, hoping to drum up some more pity now that he was on a roll. “That video’s got nearly 700 retweets.”

Annie shrugged, all traces of pity gone. “It’s not like you don’t deserve it. Pierce nearly _died_.”

“Pierce is always nearly dying. You can’t blame that on me.”

“At least half the time, it’s because of something you did to him.”

“At least half of those times, it’s because he was being a dick.”

She huffed, which Jeff took as a win. Getting the last word in with Annie around was as good as winning.

“Now,” he said, swallowing down a cough, “much as I enjoy having you barge in on me when I can’t fend you off—”

“Fend me off?” she demanded, voice going high and indignant.

“—isn’t it time for you to go?” He tried to grin at her, but it was hard to charm anyone when your eyes were drifting shut, too heavy to keep open, the way Jeff’s were.

“And leave you here all alone?”

“I’m fine,” he protested, letting his eyelids win their battle in order to focus on getting Annie out of his apartment while he still had some shred of dignity left to him. Even if the way she was stroking his hair really felt nice. “Go home. You’re gonna get sick.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Jeff.” Her hand smoothed over his forehead, into his hair.

Later, Jeff wouldn’t be able to say what it was that made him open his eyes a split second before the knock on the door came. Maybe the rhythm of her hair stroking faltered or she sucked in a breath too sharply, but for one, brief moment the sight of Annie’s tender smile was the only thing in Jeff’s head. And then it was coming closer, and he was sure—

Well, needless to say, he was wrong. So very, very wrong.

The knock sounded through the apartment, and Annie’s forward motion halted. The smile on her face went sheepish, but somehow still triumphant. God, if it didn’t make him respect her even more.

“Annie,” Jeff said, certain that he didn’t want to know the answer when she refused to meet his gaze, “what did you do?”

“Nothing!” she lied, right to his face.

“Are you trying to teach me a lesson again?” he demanded desperately, clutching at Annie’s arm. She shook him off without much effort and went to the door. “Have you learned nothing?”

What Annie had or had not learned in her three years at Greendale was up for debate, but she definitely hadn’t yet learned the value of keeping everyone out of her business. In fact, she welcomed people in with open arms.

Literally.

Opening the door of his apartment like she had any right—which, Jeff wouldn’t mind a scenario in which Annie did have the right to invite people over, though maybe that was just the fever talking—she graciously ushered the rest of the study group inside.

“Jeffrey! I can’t stay long. Not that you would expect me to, not when you could give me your awful cold to take home to my boys.”

“Oh, so you’re not playing hooky. That complicates some of the hijinks I had planned. ”

“Did you tell your boyfriend to get lost? You didn’t have to on our account.”

“You know, you talk a lot about secret boyfriends. Have you ever heard of a little thing called ‘projection?’”

“Uh, duh. Have you not been in the projection room in his house with all the home movies I’m not supposed to watch? I mean, huh?”

Everyone’s voices tumbled together, knocking around in Jeff’s head, and immediately making him feel exhausted.

(More than a little warm and fuzzy, too—if warm and fuzzy were a sensation he ever stooped to feeling—but he wasn’t about to tell them that. They’d never leave if he did.)

Still, he pushed himself upright, freeing up more of the couch for them, and trying to kick his pile of Kleenex under the coffee table.

Through it all, Annie just smiled, clearly pleased with herself. She perched on the armrest right next to Jeff as their friends invaded and made themselves at home in his apartment, where he lived.

He glared up at her, heated enough that she must have felt his attention, because she looked down.

“I’m gonna pay you back for this,” he promised. If his voice weren’t nearly gone, more of a croak than anything else, maybe Annie would have felt properly threatened. As it was, Jeff was really too pitiful for her to think anything other than, _Aww!_ He could practically see the little thought bubble pop up over her head.

She just smiled, sunny and unconcerned, and looked around at the group.

“Who wants snacks? Snacks? Snacks? Snacks?” she asked, pointing around at everyone and getting eager agreements.

“Annie,” he warned.

She blithely ignored him, standing to go poke through his refrigerator and cupboards.

Until, at least, Jeff did the only thing he could think of to get her attention: he reached out and landed a swift strike to her backside.

There wasn’t much strength behind the swat. Between Jeff’s flu-induced weakness and the volume of Annie’s floral printed skirt, she could hardly have felt the smack to her behind. She still jumped, though, her gait stuttering for one perfect moment before picking back up as if nothing had happened.

Jeff knew better. He’d gotten to her.

It wasn’t payback for bringing this—company and more witnesses to his weak and flawed immune system—down on him, not even close.

But it was enough.

Well, for now.


End file.
